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Nathanial Alden has a great life story. His mother was a film star, the sort of woman who compromised her morals and the skin she was showing for acclaim and awards. For many years running, she was the masturbation fantasy of white collared and blue collared men and the embodiment of the American dream for women who wished their skin was the exact shade of her tan. His father, on the other hand was born and raised in the Bible Belt (Tennessee to be exact) and believed in the purity of the soul, of thought and studied to become a Preacher. The world, he would tell Nathanial years later, needed guidance that was not flashed up on a movie screen and only God, with his infinite wisdom and vengeful heart could provide that. Because that’s how the story goes. His father met his mother and saved her soul. Saved her soul, and then married her. Married her and a month later, she was pregnant. Nine months later, after she repented and spoke of her lustful sins in the public eye, she was dead. Childbirth is a pesky thing that has killed women for centuries and no one really mentions the role fathers are meant to have in raising their children. A messy side effect of Jesus being born with a Dad who spent more time grooming his beard while looking down on him, rather than teaching him how to throw a baseball. While the world mourned someone who had turned her back on them, the Preacher from Tennessee was left with 3am feedings. His father did not do a good job. Nathanial has memories of bible passages and the wooden spoon, he can recite lectures about believing in God and helping his fellow man and he remembers the kisses of old ladies from the Church who wondered about a little boy who grew up without a female influence. He recalls being stoned at Sunday School and a fumbled speech about sex sending him to hell. He left, the minute he turned sixteen and ran back to his mother's parents, who told him he looked too much like their daughter and didn't ever meet his eye in conversation. Time seemed to pass a little faster at least, he had a month's worth of sleeping on their couch (he was lucky, his grandparents hated his father about as much as he did) and he found a job, a band. Those years of hymns and flirting with the repressed choir master had paid off, his electric guitar was loud and his voice was louder. The music gave most people headaches, but from the first gigs in bars, people started talking. There was something different about the movie star's son, playing with his eyes closed and jeans painted on, he seemed to have an understanding of the rock music his father would never allow him to listen to. The rebellion, he declared, had served him well and the band signed with major record label within six months of their first gig.
That night, celebrating with bottles of vodka and beer and his first shot of heroin, Nathanial was convinced this was his life. Everything made sense in the stark white of the bathroom and there was a reason he'd changed his last name to replicate his mother's, a reason that had nothing to do with the fact his father had once or twice left bruises in his anger.
In interviews, two things define God of the Day. The fact, foremost, the band members do not get along. Despite living with each other for the last two years in a tiny apartment, the band claim that they can never be in the same room together. Live shows are dominated by blood, insults and they take pride in leaving post it notes on each other's doors outlining the obvious faults in their clothing choices. It isn't true of course, but there's little fun in letting everyone know four lonely boys found each other and happened to play complimentary instruments. The public, while fawning over their debut album released in July, seem more amazed that they managed to survive the recording sessions and the critics, who were also busy fawning, declared they were glad they had made it through. The best new album this year, it's those quotes from reviews that really get written on the post its. But the second thing? Nathanial Alden will do anything for attention. The list so far has been overshadowed by an interview when he declared his mother was nothing but a slut who traded herself to feel happy, a rumored tabloid relationship with an aging female rockstar three times his age, an affair with a married actor, numerous breakdowns on stage and a rumored heroin addiction. He's proud to confess most of it is true.
It'll make a great bio one day.
( Knocked Up )
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